ABSOLUTION (A Frank Renzi novel) (41 page)

Dupree rewound the tape, and they watched the grainy video again, this time focusing on the man. His face was in shadow and partly obscured by a post. Nothing special about him, the barmaid had said, and she was right. Judging by his clothing and body language, he was young, not as young as Lisa, but under forty, not some dirty old man.

“
You think they knew each other?” Dupree asked. “Like this was a rendezvous?”

“
No,” he said, eyes fixed on the screen. “It doesn’t have that kind of feel. It’s more like—”

What he saw shocked him. “Hold it! Roll it back!”

After giving him a puzzled look, Dupree hit Rewind, then Play.

“
There! See it? Zoom in on the guy’s watch!”

Dupree zoomed in and the image sharpened.

He could hardly believe it. The resolution was bad, and it wouldn’t hold up in court, but the face on the watch was unmistakable. Mickey Mouse. His smoking gun. “It’s Tim Krauthammer in civvies!”

“
You can’t see his face,” Dupree said. “How can you tell—”

“
Forget the face, it’s the watch!” Driven by a jolt of adrenaline, he sprang from his chair and paced the room. He fucking had the bastard!

Dupree stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“
Roy, how many grown men that you know wear a Mickey Mouse watch?”

“
None that I’ve ever seen, but—”

“
Well, I have. Timothy Krauthammer. He’s the Tongue Killer.”

“
Get out!” Dupree stared at him, open-mouthed. “Are you serious?”

“
Damn straight I’m serious. Lisa Marie Sampson is living on borrowed time. We’ve got to find them before he kills her.”

_____

The sinner circled the Green Acres Motel until he located a spot where Father Cronin’s Honda Civic would attract no attention. He backed into the space, bumping the wire mesh fence so the license plate would be hidden. He grabbed the valise that contained his going-away accessories and left the car. He didn’t bother to lock it. If someone stole Cronin’s Honda Civic and ditched it somewhere else, so much the better.

Striding purposefully along a cement walkway littered with cigarette butts, he went around the corner of the motel to Marie’s room and knocked on the door. His stomach felt queasy.

If she tried to seduce him again, he might kill her.

When she opened the door he was pleased that she’d dressed as he had instructed: A loose white shirt hanging over her blue jeans and none of that garish makeup. He had chosen a green polo shirt and tan slacks for his escape from New Orleans.

He handed her the Bible. “I got you a little gift. I hope you like it.”

Her eyes widened and she beamed, as thrilled as if she’d just won the Powerball prize. “Oh, Tim, you’re so sweet! Thank you. I’ll memorize some verses and recite them for you, as soon as I find the right ones.”

She set the Bible on the dresser and turned to him with her arms outstretched. She seemed to think he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her. He wasn’t.

“
Are you packed?” He had no time for pleasantries.

“
Packed? What’s to pack? I’ll buy what I need in St. Louis.” Gazing at him with those infernal mud-brown eyes, eyes that were just like his father’s. “Would you like a cold drink? I’ve got Diet Sprite.”

“
No thank you. We should probably go.” He gave her one of his boyish smiles. “Seven hundred miles to St. Louis, we wouldn’t want to get stopped for speeding.”

He said it as a joke, expecting her to laugh, but she didn’t. She came closer and hugged him, pressing her body against his. Against her thigh, he felt his penis, limp and useless. She turned her face up to him with an intense look of yearning, a seductive look. She thought they were going to have sex.

He had started to believe that she cared about him, but she didn’t. She was a sinner like all the rest, tempting him. Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them back, knowing it was over. It was only a matter of time, but Marie didn’t know that. He thought about Gloria, the college coed who’d seduced him, recalling how the light went out of her eyes when her breathing finally ceased. A thrilling moment.

Gloria, aglow with life one instant, then fade to black.

He pushed Marie away and went in the bathroom to compose himself, trembling from the effort it had taken not to kill her. Not yet. He needed her to escape. He splashed cold water on his face and carefully washed and dried his hands.

When he came out, Marie was leafing through the pages of the Bible.

“
Leave the room key on the dresser,” he said.

She looked at him, puzzled, but didn’t question it, just picked up her blue denim purse and the Bible he’d given her and followed him out the door. As they walked to her rental car he went through his mental checklist. Stop at a gas station with a convenience store. Fill the tank and buy supplies for the trip: bottled water, a bag of ice, a Styrofoam ice chest, cold-cuts and bread, cheese and crackers and candy bars. Lots of candy bars.

“
Where’s your car?” she asked as they got into her Ford Focus.

“
I had someone drop me off,” he lied. “No sense leaving it here.”

CHAPTER 26

“
Krauthammer kidnapped the girl?” Miller’s voice rose in disbelief.

Holding the cellphone to his ear, Frank stuck his head out in the hall to make sure Monsignor Goretti wasn’t close enough to overhear. In a low voice he said, “Trust me, he’s got her. I’ve got security videos from a bar on Airline Drive. Lisa was there with him two nights running.”

“
Get out! A priest in a bar, picking up a girl?’’

“
That’s what Monsignor Goretti said when I told him. He stonewalled me at first, but he came around fast. Turns out he had his own suspicions. Father Tim’s been skipping dinner and going out at night, he said. Right now he’s in his office hunting for a recent photo of Krauthammer. He said I could use his fax machine to send it wherever I needed.”

“
You’re sure the guy in the bar is Krauthammer?”

“
He was in civvies. You can’t see his face, but you can see his Mickey Mouse watch, the one he was wearing when we interviewed him.”

“
Jesus! And you’re at the rectory?”

“
Yes. Our boy’s not here, but his Toyota is. He told the Monsignor it wouldn’t start and borrowed another priest’s car, a Honda Civic, said he had to visit an elderly parishioner. I called Dupree, gave him the tag number.”

“
You gonna tell Norris?” Miller asked.

“
I don’t have a choice. We have to find Lisa pronto, and Norris has the manpower to do it. As soon as the Monsignor brings me the Krauthammer photograph, I’ll fax it to you.”

“
Great work, Frank! Let’s get this guy off the street. I’ll call Dupree and have him fax the girl’s picture to us. You think he’s gonna run?”

“
I think he’s running already. He monitors the news. He knows Father Daily’s in the hospital. Daily can identify him.”
If he lives long enough.

Frank rubbed his temples to ease a pounding headache. “I think he met Lisa Sampson at the bar and figured he could use her somehow to escape. He already tried to kill Sean Daily, no telling what he’ll do with the girl.”

“
If every cop on the Interstate has the tag on the car, we’ll get him. When I get the pictures, I’ll send them, too. All the cruisers have computers.”

“
I don’t think he’ll try to fly out, but have Dupree fax the pictures to TSA at the airport, just to be sure.”

“
You got it. I’ll cover the train and bus stations too.”

Five minutes later Frank faxed Krauthammer’s photo to Miller, thanked the Monsignor, got in his car and called the hospital. They wouldn’t give him any information on Father Daily’s condition, so he called Dana.

“
Dana, I’m in a rush and I need a favor. Remember that priest I told you about last night? I found him at the rectory this morning, unconscious. Tim bashed his head in.”

After a moment of shocked silence, she said, “I’m very sorry to hear that, but what makes you think Tim did it?”

“
I don’t have time to explain. Can you go to the hospital and find out how he is? He’s at Tulane Medical Center. Father Sean Daily.”

“
Of course. I’ll go there right away.”

“
His housekeeper wasn’t home when I found him. They’ve been together for thirty years, might as well be married, probably would be, except for the fact that he’s posing as a priest. Her name is Aurora Laussaude.”

“
Is she at the hospital?”

“
I don’t know, and I don’t have any way to contact her. I hope she gets there in time. Sean looked pretty bad.”

“
Want me to call your cellphone when I get the information?”

“
Thanks, Dana, but you better let me call you.”

He didn’t want any interruptions while he was talking to Norris.

_____

The sinner carried two shopping bags to the door of the convenience mart and stopped short. A Louisiana State Police car—white with green lettering, a light-bar on the roof—sat in the space facing the door. The trooper, a tall husky man in reflective sunglasses, made no move to enter the store, just sat there seemingly engrossed in whatever he was reading.

Marie joined him at the door, sucking on a lollipop. He glanced at the clerk. The teenager with the disgusting rings in his nose was reading a copy of
Penthouse
, oblivious to them. He removed a broad-brimmed hat from a revolving display rack beside the door, put it on Marie’s head and adjusted the brim to hide her face. A jolt of adrenaline zinged through his veins.

“
We’re out of here,” he said.

Runaway Marie looked at the police car, then at him, her eyes fearful. Oddly, he, who had killed so many women, felt utterly calm. Nothing could stop him now. He had prepared his escape as carefully as his Absolutions. He put on his wraparound sunglasses and urged her forward.

“
Don’t worry,” he whispered. “That cop won’t look at us twice.”

She clutched his hand and averted her face as they walked past the cruiser. Sucking on her lollipop, she looked young and vulnerable. How difficult it must have been, locked into an isolated life of misery, unloved and neglected by her selfish rock-star father.

In a surge of compassion, he put his arm around her.

Behind them, the cruiser roared to life and settled into a noisy idle.

But no siren. No command of “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

Of course not. The state cop had no interest in them, no reason to bother a nice young couple leaving the store with their purchases. Grasping Marie’s arm, he guided her to the rented Ford Focus.

“
You drive,” he said, urging her behind the wheel. A woman driving the car would be safer, would look more innocuous. Marie was afraid the cops would be pursuing her. Nonsense. It was him they wanted.

“
Are you sure?” she asked as she slid behind the wheel.

“
Positive. I’ll bet you’re an excellent driver.”

He circled the car, leaned inside to drop their shopping bags on the back seat and slid into the passenger seat.

Marie looked over, her eyes full of adoration. “You’re so sweet, Tim. My father never lets me drive. He says I get careless and drive too fast.”

As she turned her head to back out of the parking space, he opened the glove box to reassure himself that the Glock-9 was there. It was.

Marie drove to the exit and waited patiently for two cars to pass before she eased onto the highway, eager to demonstrate her prudent driving skills. After she settled into the middle lane, he turned and looked out the rear window to see if the State police cruiser was following them. It wasn’t.

Relieved, he stared at the scabs on his knuckles, wondering what would become of Marie, amazed that he had not yet devised a plan to kill her. Usually by this time he would have collected a dozen reasons why she was going to die. He still might.

“
You’re awfully quiet, Tim.” She looked over at him and flashed a smile. “Penny for your thoughts.”

You don’t want to know
.

He smiled at her, putting maximum effort into his feigned joviality.

“
Just looking forward to a lovely vacation with you, Marie.”

Until I get on a plane in St. Louis and disappear, without you.

_____

Frank tapped on the door and Norris looked up from the paperwork on his desk. His face registered surprise, then annoyance. Frank stepped into the office, every muscle in his body knotted with tension. If he didn’t convince Norris that Krauthammer was the Tongue Killer, Lisa Sampson would die, and he could not let that happen.

“
What?” Norris jutted his chin and shot him a look:
Why are you here?

Too tense to sit, he crossed the room and leaned against a gray-steel file cabinet. “I know who your serial killer is.”

“
Yeah? Just like that you pull the killer out of a hat? You’re off that case, Renzi. What part of that don’t you understand?”